Detour
by ThexInvisiblexGirl
Summary: Bella is back in Forks, determined to face the ghosts of her past. But is she ready to face what she has left behind? a sequel/oneshot for my fic Left Behind, takes place 25 years later.


**A/N: I know it's been less than a week since I've completed **_**Left Behind**_**, and it's funny how it's not letting me go. This idea was at the back of my mind a while before I even finished the story, and once I posted the epilogue, this piece just sort of wrote itself. I thought I'd just share it – no point in waiting, really. It takes place 5 years after the epilogue of **_**Left Behind**_**. I guess you can understand it without knowing the particulars of the longer story, but if you want to read the whole thing, the link is in my profile. You know how I feel about reviews – happy reading!**

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Detour

I couldn't believe we were back here.

It'd been years, but it felt as if nothing had changed much in the depths of this eternal forest. The trees grew huge and thick on both sides of the road. There was this out-of-time sensation when we drove beneath the canopy they'd made, deeper into the ancient woods. From time to time, a flash of moonlight would stream through the treetops, momentarily lightening the road ahead. You could easily feel claustrophobic there if you didn't know your way. You could easily get lost. It was almost as if the trees were swallowing us whole, us and our new car.

We weren't staying long. We were just making a short stop on the way to Denali. It was because of me, really. I had insisted we'd make this detour. I was just… curious, I guess. And I couldn't possibly be in such proximity to this place without passing by here. The temptation was irresistible. I knew it would have to be brief, and that we'd have to be careful no one would notice us, but there wasn't much risk of that, in the death of night. And besides, I was willing to take the risk. Carlisle wouldn't like my idea, Edward had said, and I could tell from his strained expression he wasn't too happy about it either, but I needed to do this.

It was my first time in America since my change. Staying in Europe was safer as a first step, Edward had said. I suspected he wanted to keep me as far away from the memories as possible. There was nothing wrong with recounting those memories to me, but me trying to reach out for the past in my current condition… I guessed he didn't want to risk that, and I didn't resent him for this decision. I understood. And I felt lucky to have someone to restrain me in those first years. But now, 25 years later, I truly believed I was strong enough to handle it. I just wanted to have a look. We changed our flight arrangements for the sake of this detour. We landed in Seattle and we were to drive the rest of the way to Alaska. The Cullens were expecting us within the next few days, so I knew we only had a few hours in the area, but even that seemed like luxuries.

"I don't like this," Edward muttered as he parked the car at the side of the road. He kept his hands on the steering wheel, staring straight ahead, into the thick darkness. His fingers were clenched so tightly around the wheel that for a moment, I feared he would accidentally smash it.

I wasn't sure if he was talking to me or to himself, but I felt the need to comfort him, just the same. I lay my hand on his. "I won't be long," I promised.

He finally turned to face me. He didn't look mad, just anxious. "Are you sure you don't want me to go with you?"

I shook my head. "This is something I have to do alone," I said, gently so I wouldn't hurt him. I could never hurt him.

"Will you be alright by yourself?"

"Yes, silly," I laughed softly, leaning over to press a kiss to his forehead. "I'm a monster now too, remember?" I teased, flashing my razor-sharp teeth.

He didn't look amused. He ran his palm against my cheek, his finger tracing my bottom lip. "Hurry back."

I captured his finger between my lips and gently sucked on it once before I let it go, hoping to soften him, or at least distract him. But if I succeeded, his face showed no inclination to it.

Once outside the car, I took a moment to get a sense of my surroundings. I didn't know the woods well, not as well as the Cullens had, probably, but my sense of smell was sharp enough to get by. Pretty soon our car was a tiny spot in the distance. I couldn't see him, but I knew Edward would be watching me until he could no longer see me. I sighed. I wished he wasn't so worried. I wasn't a helpless, fragile human anymore. From some reason, this revelation stung a bit. I wondered why I felt that way. I came to like things the way they were. Surely, being an indestructible vampire was far better than being a clumsy damsel in distress. I guessed it was being back here that was making me so sentimental.

I tried not to linger on the memory of Edward's anxious face as I advanced deeper into the darkness, picking up my pace as I did. Thinking about it made me anxious as well. Our relationship had reached a new level of intensity after my change; we'd become so attuned to one another, impossibly more so than before. He was no longer upset about his inability to read my mind or hear my thoughts, simply because it was getting unnecessary. There was almost nothing we could hide from one another.

God, this _speed_. I could never get used to it. It was as if it was someone else's legs, as if the wind was carrying me on its wings, as if I was flying. And I was, in a way. It was like going down a rollercoaster, only faster, impossibly more so. I heard the whooshing of the branches as I ran passed them. I'd never thought I'd enjoy running so much. I felt completely liberated, carefree, one with the wind. I suddenly wished Edward was here with me. It felt so lonely all of a sudden. I wanted to share this exhilaration with someone.

I saw a break through the thick vegetation, and gradually slowed down. I looked around me, and the strangest sensation washed through me. I smirked inwardly. I didn't know vampires could experience deja vu. I could have sworn I'd been there before, in this exact spot, at some point of my human life. The memory lingered, as always, at the very back of my mind, but the sensation was still there. I remembered a moonless night, and rain, and darkness, mostly that. I shook my head. I didn't think it was a pleasant memory.

The sound of breaking leaves was sharp and sudden in the silence of the forest. It caught me off-guard. My head snapped up; my eyes shot in the direction of the sound. The scent was distinct, unmistakable, overwhelming. I held my breath. I always did, when there was a human so close by. It was a precautious, really. In the past 25 years, I'd never tasted human blood.

The scent surrounded me, suddenly stronger than anything else, as if mocking me. I scorned myself. My instincts were usually far sharper than that. Reminiscence weakened them, I assumed. I got too absorbed in the feeling the place induced. But now when awareness pushed the memory back to the back of my mind, I tensed. I wasn't expecting to find anyone here. I thought I was alone. My coat was dark, so were my jeans. Hopefully, I wouldn't stand out too much. I knew how to become one with the shadows.

But she saw me as soon as I had seen her, before I managed to make any move. Our eyes met for one brief moment before I slipped into the shadows, then into the trees, faster than any animal around. I heard her gasp, as if she wasn't expecting to find anyone here either. I expected her to come into the shadows and investigate. I furiously thought what I was going to do if she did. I didn't want to attack her. Even as self-defense, I didn't want her to be my first human victim. But could I resist the opportunity all by myself? Only now, when danger was so close – for her as well as for me – I realize it might have been a mistake to come out here alone. I should have asked Edward to come with me, he would have known what to do, how to –

She didn't come after me. She turned and ran soundlessly in the opposite direction, until her hasty footsteps ceased. Only when the silence resumed around me, I released the breath I didn't even realize I was holding. I was more shaken than I thought possible. Did she really see me, or was I imagining things? And what was she even doing here? She didn't even look old enough to hang out in the woods by herself! Was she alone here? Or maybe there were others like her around?

The memory of her face haunted me. She looked so young, so inexperienced. I wondered if this was how I looked to her, stunningly beautiful and forever 19, in the middle of nowhere. A wicked witch ripped out of a fairytale picture book; an evil queen in jeans and a dark jacket. I wondered what unnerved her more, my presence or my appearance. It still puzzled me, other people's reaction to us. I was used to Edward's dazzling affect on people; it was just so strange to think that _I_ would provoke this same reaction. I thought about the look in the girl's eyes, and tried to make sense of it. I hoped I didn't scare her.

I didn't linger on it. There were more important matters at hand. I promised Edward I'd be back soon. I could see the house now, towering in front of me, a torch in the middle of all this darkness. I reached closer, as close as I dared. I crouched in the shadow, beneath the front window. I could hear the sound of the TV from the living-room. There was a game on. I smiled to myself. Some things never changed.

I didn't mean to break in. No, never that. I just wanted to have a look, to make sure… 25 years was a long time. I knew I would be calmer if I ascertained he was doing okay in my absence. One look, I told myself, and I'd be gone. But then I finally got a better look at him, and my determination was all gone. He was fast asleep, his head tilted back against the headrest and his mouth slightly open as he softly snored, as if the noise from the TV didn't even bother him. I smiled fondly as I took this image in.

My legs moved out of their own accord, before reason even kicked in. I scorned myself as I advanced towards the front door. Edward would be extremely upset with me for doing this, I knew. _I_ was extremely upset with myself. It was a stupid move, stupid and dangerous and unnecessary, and yet… The spare key was in its old hiding place, although I couldn't figure out why he'd leave it there. Out of habit, perhaps. I snuck in against my better judgment, never once thinking of what would happen if he woke up.

He looked older than I had expected. I guessed it was because I had never actually imagined him as an older man. Even 25 years after the last time I'd seen him, he was still Charlie, my dad, who kind of looked like me. I had a few pictures of him, and I had spent days memorizing his face. In those pictures, he had never got older, like me. It was sort of comforting to know we had this thing in common. This man was almost a stranger. It wasn't that he didn't look like the dad I remembered, the one whose memory I had reconstructed from my pictures and Edward's stories. His hair was grayer than I'd imagined. He wore glasses now, and I idly wondered if he used them only for the TV or did he wear them regularly. But beneath the signs of time and old age, he was still my dad.

I tore my eyes from him with difficulty and took in the sight of the room. It was as if time had touched nothing but my dad. The room was pretty much unchanged. The furniture looked more worn-out now, naturally. There were a few pictures on the mantelpiece, some of which I vaguely remembered. School pictures I didn't remember being taken. One from graduation. A few from our wedding; me and him, us with Renée, me and Edward. I didn't remember giving him those. I wondered if he'd gotten it from the Cullens after what happened.

I looked at him again, more closely now. I was searching his face carefully, trying to find traces of grief, or sadness. Sitting there, he looked peaceful. I hoped this was really the case. This was how I wanted to remember him. This would be the face I'd memorize from now on. More than anything, I wished I could give him a sign I was here. But I could never do that. Not without giving him a heart-attack, that's for sure. Even breaking in was too much.

My gaze fell on the afghan at the back of the sofa. I took it, and gently tucked it around his shoulders. Before I could think better of it, I leaned closer and pressed a kiss to his forehead. "Sleep well, Dad," I whispered, too low for his ears.

It was difficult to walk away. Watching my dad that way, I sort of lost track of time. I wondered if that was how Edward had felt those endless nights he watched me sleep. Once outside, I glanced up, and smiled at what used to be my bedroom window. The room was dark, and I wondered what it used for now. Did Charlie use it as storage, or did he keep it as it was when I'd lived there? For a moment I was tempted to go in Edward's way and have a quick look, just to answer my silent wonder, but I knew I'd rather not. Enough ghosts for one visit.

The forest wrapped its dark arms around me as I turned back into its embrace. I was running as fast as I could, trying to fight this melancholy that was beginning to wash over me. Already there was this gap within me, one that wasn't going to be filled easily. Coming here, I was hoping to get myself some sort of a closure. I knew it wouldn't fill the gap completely, but it was a start. But apparently, I wasn't thinking things through. I didn't realize how much I'd missed him until I saw him sit there. Peaceful or not, he looked so _lonely_. And I was the only one to blame. Already the old memory was fading, replacing itself with this one, my own memory of my dad. I wanted to hold on to the old memory. I _needed_ to hold on to it. But it was drifting farther away, making room for this more tangible image. This was a mistake. I shouldn't have done it. And Edward was trying to prevent me from getting hurt, as he had always done. I should have listened to him. I should never have come.

I was still beating myself up over this brief visit when it washed over me again, bringing me to an immediate halt. There was no mistake in the scent again, or the sound of a beating heart. Very close by. I squinted in the darkness. I could see nothing, so I knew whoever it was, it was hiding in the trees. It was pitch dark now, and I clearly had the advantage as far as eyesight went. I stood very still, not even breathing, and hoped that whatever it was – _who_ever it was, by the scent of it – he would change his mind and go back to wherever he came from.

He didn't.

A dark figure stepped out of the trees. It was a tall, well-built man, whose long hair was tied back into a ponytail. He looked as big as Emmett, but his movements were surprisingly graceful. He moved carefully but with a certain confidence, casting glances around him as he did, almost as if he was sniffing the air around him. He didn't seem to have any sort of weapon, which I thought was rather dumb of him. I kept my eyes on him, trying to assess his movements and mine. I wouldn't take any chances. I'd just have to wait until he gave up whatever he was searching for before I kept going. I was secretly hoping I was out for longer than I had intended to. Maybe Edward got so worried that he decided to come after me. More than anything, I wanted to have him there with me. This devastating sadness was too much to handle alone. I just needed him to hold me so I could wait it out, like a bad storm.

The stranger advanced towards a small clearing a short distance away from me, when suddenly the moonlight broke in through the treetops and shone on him.

I didn't realize I gasped aloud until his head snapped in my direction, and my gaze met his.

My hand flew too late to cover my mouth. My eyes wouldn't leave his. I wasn't planning on facing more ghosts tonight, but apparently fate had other plans for me. But surely this was a mistake, someone's cruel joke. I didn't deserve to be so lucky. It was _him_. And he was more concrete than any story or any memory I'd ever had. "Jacob."

It was no more than a whisper uttered in the silent forest, but somehow he heard it. He blinked and took one step forward, squinting into the darkness. "_Bella_?" he asked, his voice shaking slightly. I couldn't tell if it was fear or uncertainty. I nodded and then, completely by instinct, walked out of my hiding. I knew it was a reckless step, an unnecessary risk to say the very least. He was my enemy now, the eternal enemy of my kind. But how could I possibly let ancient myths and legends come between us? It was _Jacob_. I had never thought I'd see him again.

He stared at me in astonishment. "I don't believe this," he murmured. His eyes widened as he took it all in. I tried to see what he saw – the flawless features, the pallid skin, the golden eyes – me, 19 and unchanged, and yet so very different than the way I'd been when I'd last seen him.

"It's good to see you," the words slipped from my lips before I even decided what I wanted to say to him, but it sounded so wrong, so casual. He was so different now, of course, all grown-up. But in spite of that, he looked the same. Well, except for his eyes, as dark and fathomless as I thought I remembered them. They were cold and careful now, narrowing ever so slightly at the sound of my new voice.

"What the hell are you doing here?"

"Just… making a quick stop." I was suddenly embarrassed to confess my whim to go and check on Charlie.

"Where's…" his voice trailed off, but the question silently echoed in his stare.

"He's in the car," I replied quietly, nodding in the direction I was headed.

"So you're planning to resettle here, or…"

"No. We're on the way to Alaska. It's just a short detour, really."

He didn't say anything for a long moment. We just eyed one another carefully, curiously, like two kids forced to play together. Then, at some point, he shook his head, laughing to himself. The sound was bitter, almost off. "This is so surreal. I've never thought I'd get to see… that you'll…" his voice trailed off; he shook his head in disbelief. "You're still beautiful," he whispered, probably forgetting I could still hear it in my current state. "You kind of look like yourself."

The funny thing was that he did, too. I did a quick calculation in my head. He should be over 40 now. There were so many things I wanted to ask him, so many things I wanted to know. I thought I'd start with the easiest one. "What are _you_ doing here in the middle of the night?"

"I'm following a lead. My daughter said she saw something in – " he gasped, as if with realization. "It was _you_ she'd seen, wasn't it?"

I hardly heard his question at first. I was preoccupied handling this new piece of information. His _daughter_. I felt the smile curl on my lips. "I knew you'd have a daughter."

He seemed puzzled. "What?"

"I think about you often," I confessed. I expected it to be easier now, when I couldn't blush, but it wasn't. It was embarrassing just the same. But I couldn't bring myself to look away. From some reason, I was given this chance to see him again, and I meant to take full advantage of it. "How old is she?"

"Leanne is 16," he replied without taking his eyes off me, as if he was still trying to make sense of my previous confession.

"Leanne," I repeated. The name rolled on my tongue. "It's a pretty name." And then I remembered his question and shook my head. "I must have scared her to death. I'm sorry."

"Oh, she's braver than she seems."

"I bet, if she's yours."

There was a short, awkward silence then. His eyes were still boring into me. I was beginning to feel uncomfortable beneath his gaze. It made me feel transparent, as if my granite-like skin couldn't protect me from the intensity of his stare. His look turned reproachful now, angry yet restrained. "They said you were dead."

I nodded gravely. "I know."

"Charlie was devastated. He mourned you for a long time."

I thought of the old man I found at the house. "I know that, too."

"Did he do this to you?"

The malice in his tone hurt me. "There was no other choice, Jacob. We weren't planning on it so soon, but the circumstances – "

"Oh, _please_, Bella, there's _always_ another choice!"

"Not over this," I shivered, remembering. I traced a finger down my throat. His stare followed my movement, half disgusted, half horrified, and I knew whom he was thinking of. My eyes narrowed. "Besides, he didn't _do_ anything to me, this was _my_ choice, _my_ decision, and you know it."

"Bullshit!"

"Jake, this is my life now," I said, holding my arms at my sides. "This is who I am. There's nothing I can do to change it, there's nothing I could have done to change it back then."

He gave me a scornful look. "So you _enjoy_ being a monster?"

"Oh, is that what I am, then?" I challenged him, my eyes flaring. It shut him up pretty fast. He looked away, as if embarrassed for saying it. I was impressed with myself, but also sort of upset it had to come to this between us.

"I think about you often, too," he admitted then, and there was this timid spark in his eyes now, as if he was 17 again.

The statement caught me off-guard, although it really shouldn't have. But I didn't want to linger on this topic. It was a wound I didn't feel like opening, not without leaving more scars behind. So I skipped the rest of the safe questions, those that included his dad, the pack, whether or not he had more children, and what his daughter was doing here in the middle of the night. Instead, I went straight to the point. "Who is she?"

The question was subtle, but he understood, nonetheless. "She was new in my school. I didn't realize what it was at first; it took a while before it hit me. And stupid as I am, I tried to deny the impulse, but then I realized I couldn't. Impulse or no impulse, getting over you was difficult," he said nonchalantly, glancing at me, as if he wanted to see how it would affect me. I kept my expression sealed.

"And then we heard of the accident. Iris and I were together for a few months by then. It was clear to me that it was no more than a cover. I knew exactly what happened to you. But being at your funeral, crying over you, comforting Charlie, seeing that _coffin_… I fell apart. Iris put me back together, literally. I could never have survived this if it wasn't for her."

I was quiet for a moment, trying to take it all in. Imagining my own funeral was something I had tried very hard to avoid all those years. I looked up at him. The expression on his face was heart-wrenching, as if he was reliving the memory. "You put me back together once."

He stared at me in awe. "I thought you're not supposed to have human memories."

"Edward remembers."

There was silence again. He looked contemplative. When he next looked at me, it was with earnest. "Are you happy, Bella?"

"As happy as I can ever be, under the circumstances." No father, no mother, no best friend to turn to, and now new haunting memories and a gap that refused to be filled.

"Is he taking a good care of you?"

I laughed sadly at that. "I can take care of myself just fine now, apparently."

"Is he good to you?" he pressed, and there was this strange urgency in his eyes.

"Yes," I whispered. "Yes, he is. He will never hurt me, Jacob."

He eyed me bitterly. "He already did."

"I don't see it that way."

"You've always been a little strange," he grumbled, but I caught the teasing in his tone now. The urgency still lingered in his eyes, and for a moment I couldn't understand it, until it dawned on me. He was seeking for the same thing I had, coming here to check on my dad. Reassurance.

I locked my gaze with his, jokes aside. "Yes, I'm happy."

"That's all I need to know," he replied quietly, never looking away.

"I should head back. He'll be worried."

He laughed once; the sound was bitter. "What happened to self-reliance?"

I mock-groaned. "Try and tell _him_ that."

He smiled, but it looked strained. That heart-wrenching expression was back, tearing a hole in the place where my heart should have been. "I miss you every day, Bells."

"I miss you, too, Jake." I hesitated, and stepped closer. He froze where he stood, and my hesitation reflected back at me from his eyes. I couldn't decide if he was transfixed or terrified. Probably a combination of both. "I won't hurt you," I murmured. As I moved closer his scent got stronger, but there was something off about it. I wrinkled my nose with disgust as something from the past finally clicked. "Geez, Jake, you _do_ smell bad."

He snorted, looking displeased. "Look who's talking."

"Try to hold your breath," I suggested.

I guessed he realized what I was up to by the time I reached him. He opened his arms slowly, hesitantly, and I stepped into them. I forgot how warm he was, or maybe he was warmer to me than before because my body was colder now. He flinched ever so slightly when the coldness from my skin sipped through his shirt, but he didn't cower back like I feared he would. He exhaled slowly as his arms tightened around me, gently holding me against him.

It was a strange feeling to be held by him. For the past 25 years I'd never been in such proximity with a human. He was so tall; my head barely reached his chest. He shifted ever so slightly, and I felt his chin against the top of my head. His scent was overwhelmingly strong, assaulting my nostrils. I tried not to let it get to me. I could definitely endure another moment of this.

"Be safe." Somewhere between a pleading and a threat, the whisper echoed in the silence of the forest. His voice was shaking slightly, thick with emotion.

"You too." I pulled away from him slowly, and looked up. His eyes looked huge, finally trusting, speaking volumes. One more ghost, one more face to memorize. "Goodbye, Jacob."

He nodded in reply, and slowly let me go.

I knew he was looking after me as I made a run for the trees again, but I didn't look away. I didn't want to see that agonized expression again. I knew it was going to haunt me nonetheless.

I found the car in no time. Edward was still inside, listening to music so quiet, it was almost background noise. He turned it off the moment I went into the car, giving me his full attention. I said nothing at first, although I could almost hear his endless questions in the silence. I knew he could probably smell Jacob on me, too, and that he was awaiting an explanation. I didn't feel like saying anything though. I knew I'd probably tell him everything later – how my dad looked like, what Jacob said, the surprise of seeing his daughter – but right now, I just wanted to hold on to the memory, no matter how bitter, the first memory of my past that was truly my own.

As patient as he had always been with me, he asked me nothing. His hand touched mine, shaking me out of my reverie. "Are you alright?"

"Yes," I said with confidence. "I'm alright now."

And the funny thing is that I finally _was_ alright.


End file.
